Chapter 38
Caspar’s POV:
I sat in the corner of the restaurant, my gaze involuntarily tracking the figure in the emerald green dress.
Audrey Lane was chatting and laughing with a guy.
The man leaned close to whisper something in her ear, making her laugh even more freely as she playfully swatted his arm.
I noticed his hand had somehow found its way to her waist.
An inexplicable irritation spread through my chest.
I set down my barely touched whiskey and decided to wrap up this tedious business dinner.
Just then, I saw Audrey heading toward the restrooms.
Without missing a beat, I followed, positioning myself around the corner near the hallway by the bathrooms.
When she emerged from the ladies‘ room, I quickly stepped into her path, blocking her way.
“Ms. Lane, quite the player, aren’t you? First married, now with a boyfriend.” I stared coldly at Audrey, who was clearly three sheets to the wind.
“Mr. Thornton, my personal life is none of your damn business.”
She tried to straighten up, but her body swayed slightly.
“As Noah’s art teacher, everything you do is my business.”
I stepped forward, close enough to smell the booze on her breath, and couldn’t help but frown. “How much did you drink?”
“That’s not your concern,” she waved her hand dismissively, her tone becoming more defiant. “Mind your own business.”
I raised an eyebrow. The alcohol seemed to be giving her liquid courage she normally wouldn’t have.
“Listen here, Mr. Thornton,” she tilted her head, the alcohol making her gaze unfocused yet strangely direct.
“If you’re really that bored, or worried I have ulterior motives, why don’t you just find Noah a stepmother? I could set you up with some decent prospects.”
My jaw clenched instantly, rage spreading through my chest like wildfire.
‘I’m not desperate enough to need a drunk woman playing matchmaker, Ms. Lane.” I replied icily, my voice dripping with undisguised sarcasm.
“Perfect then.” She waved her hand flippantly. “Since we’re on the same page, I’ll be taking my leave.”
Audrey turned to walk away, but she clearly underestimated alcohol’s effect on her coordination.
Her steps were unsteady, her body tilting to one side, about to take a tumble.
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Chapter 38
I quickly reached out and caught her shoulder.
You can barely stand, let alone walk. I sighed. ‘I’m taking you home.”
‘Let go of me, I don’t need your help.” She tried to shrug off my grip.
“This isn’t a request, Ms. Lane.” My tone brooked no argument. “This is to ensure Noah’s art teacher doesn’t break her neck from being plastered.
I wasn’t about to argue with a drunk. Ignoring her protests, I hoisted her over my shoulder in one swift motion.
“This is kidnapping!” she shouted from my shoulder, drawing stares from other patrons.
Her ‘date–I heard Audrey call him Finley–stumbled over, clearly having had his fair share too, trying to intervene: “Hey! Who the hell are you? Put her
down!
I turned, fixing the obviously intoxicated man with an icy stare: “Caspar Thornton.”
My tone was sharp as a blade. ‘She’s drunk. I’m taking her home.”
The moment Finley processed my name, his face went white as a sheet, his drunken bravado evaporating instantly.
The name seemed to catch in his throat, and he could only manage a choked whisper, “King C…”
Despite being clearly rattled, Finley mustered the courage to block my path, his hands trembling slightly: “You… you can’t just take her.”
His gaze darted between me and Audrey, as if I might do something terrible to her at any moment.
I took a deep breath, my patience completely shot.
“Look, I don’t have time to explain myself to some drunk. I’ll get her home safely. If you actually gave a damn about her, you’d have stopped her from getting this wasted.”
“But-”
“Enough.” I cut him off, my voice low and dangerous. “Move.”
Finley hesitated but ultimately backed down under my glare, reluctantly stepping aside.
I carried Audrey to the waiting car, where my driver had already opened the door.
After settling her in the back seat, her head lolled to one side, mumbling incoherently.
*Finley, why aren’t you talking?” she asked groggily, obviously mistaking me for her friend.
‘I’m not Finley.” I replied curtly.
She squinted, trying to focus on me, but the alcohol clearly made recognition difficult.
‘So what’s this Finley to you?” I asked casually, keeping my tone deliberately neutral.
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Chapter 38
“Huh?” She blinked confusedly. “Finley’s my good friend…”
Friend. I felt an inexplicable wave of relief, my tense shoulders unconsciously relaxing.
‘Do you know who I am? 1 asked, studying her flushed, alcohol reddened cheeks.
She squinted at me, then suddenly burst into giggles: “Oh, Caspar Thornton, the Wolf of Wall Street.”
“You know what,” she wagged her finger at me unsteadily, ‘you’re such a mood swing. One minute you’re cold as ice, the next you’re pretending to case.
She turned toward the front seat. ‘Even the driver up there seems more approachable than you.”
The driver silently raised the partition, clearly wanting no part of this conversation. Smart move.
I felt a flicker of irritation. Where was the usually reserved Audrey?
“Is this how you always are?” I frowned at her. “Get drunk and start hitting on people?”
My thoughts drifted involuntarily back to that night in London.
“Do you remember that night in London?” I cut straight to the point.
Her eyes widened slightly, but quickly returned to their alcohol–glazed state: “Which night? Oh, that night.” She laughed lightly. “Yeah, I remember. I treated you like a gigolo and slept with you.”
Her bluntness left me momentarily speechless, fury rising rapidly in my chest.
“Sorry about that, don’t be mad.”
Just when I thought she was finally going to address what happened properly, she waved her hand dismissively, her tone flippant again.
“But since it already happened, why don’t you sleep with me again and we’ll call it even?”
I felt the vein in my temple throbbing, my clenched fists nearly white with tension.
How dare this woman speak so casually about that night?
Even more infuriating was her suggestion to “call it even“-as if it were some trivial transaction.
“Audrey,” I lowered my voice, struggling to control my rage, “do you think this is some kind of game?”
She blinked, a flash of annoyance crossing her drunk features.
‘I’m the girl here, and I’m not even bothered by it. Why are you so pissed off?” She shook her head. “Besides, it’s not like I actually wanted to sleep with you. That was just… special circumstances.”
My anger was about to erupt like a volcano when I noticed her head tilting to one side, eyes closing, her breathing becoming steady and deep.
She’d passed out, leaving me sitting there with nowhere to direct my boiling rage.
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Chapter 38
“Where does she live?” I asked the driver.
“Sorry, sir, I don’t have her New York address.”
I looked at her sleeping face, weighing my options.
“Take us to the Thornton estate.”
As the car took a turn, her body slid toward me.
Before I could react, she suddenly wrapped her arms around my waist and buried her face against my abdomen, like she was hugging some oversized body
pillow.
I froze completely, my entire body going rigid as if I’d been struck by lightning.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
